


conservation law

by Disaffected_Niece



Series: it's just basic physics [1]
Category: Captain Marvel (2019)
Genre: 'They have a tight bond', 'a very loving relationship', Bad Pick-Up Lines, Defining The Relationship - Friendship Edition, Discussion of loss and trauma, F/M, Fic inspired by roggvers prompt, It seemed fitting considering everything, Mentions of xenophobia and racism in Kree society, Protective Yon-Rogg, Sick! Vers, Sickfic, StarForce, The Supreme Intelligence is just awful, Trigger warning: description of blood + vomit + seizure, quarantine fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:08:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24680593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Disaffected_Niece/pseuds/Disaffected_Niece
Summary: conservation - The act of preventing injury, loss or decay, as well as providing protection and restoration as needed. Conservation applies to several fields, such as art, the natural environment, healthcare and more.In physics, conservation has a slightly different meaning. The laws of conservation are essential to our understanding of the world around us. They are based on the principle in which the value of a physical quantity or parameter remains constant in a system that experiences no external influence. To give an example, the law of conservation of energy states that energy cannot be destroyed or created, only transformed into another version of itself, i.e. chemical energy to kinetic energy.___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________“Hey, Commander,” Vers said. “Have you been sanitised, or are you just nervous to see me?”“I’ve been sanitised,” he replied flatly.
Relationships: Carol Danvers/Yon-Rogg
Series: it's just basic physics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1784386
Comments: 10
Kudos: 46





	conservation law

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to the wonderful Pandora-Cleo for being my beta on this work. I really appreciate it :D
> 
> Credit for the quarantine fic idea goes to roggvers! This fic was inspired by a post of roggvers on Tumblr a while back when COVID-19 first began spreading.

**conservation law**

* * *

Yon-Rogg _hated_ the military medical ward.

Medical wards always had the strong smell of sterilisation, but the one Starforce was assigned to always used some kind of sanitisation formula that seared his nostrils until his eyes tear up from the stench. The smell seemed to cling to the blindingly white walls and floor.

Yon-Rogg shifted in his seat uneasily. Why did everything in the damn medical ward _have_ to be white? Yon-Rogg felt paranoid just sitting there, almost sure that he was somehow creating a mess on the shiny, tiled floor for some poor medic to clean up.

He knew that he was in a particularly poor mood. A relatively simple retrieval mission had nearly failed, due to Minn-Evra making an _outstandingly_ bad call that ended with Vers being caught in the crossfire. Yon-Rogg had not even been allowed near Vers before the medics arrived, just had to watch her blood pool slowly on the ground beneath her.

And then that business with the vial...

He rubbed his irritated nose impatiently, scowling as the smell hit him again.

The soft padding sound of anti-slip shoes coming down the corridor caught his attention.

Yon-Rogg looked up, catching sight of red scrubs underneath a lab coat. At long last, a doctor. Only the nurses or medics wore pink.

The doctor had a pinched look on her face, and the coral pink lipstick she wore only exaggerated her expression. Oddly, she wore the ancient healers’ mark; three thick white streaks across her blue face. Yon-Rogg had never seen it worn outside of ceremonies.

“Commander Yon-Rogg,” the doctor said, saluting him. He noted that her voice had the same drawling accent of Higher Hala as Minn-Evra’s. “My name is Dr Bona-Dea, but please call me Bona-Dea.”

He stood up. “Are you the doctor taking care of Vers?”

“I am.”

“How is she?”

“The virus has undoubtedly infected her, but we are not sure about the effects it will have on her body, given her... _uniqueness_.”

Yon-Rogg caught her tone and resisted the urge to frown.

“Indeed,” Yon-Rogg said. “Will she recover?”

“We are unsure at this time, but we are working towards a cure. The patient will be in quarantine for the next two weeks. Given that she’s infected, despite her Kreeblood, there is a concern that this virus could affect _us_.”

 _Ah_ , Yon-Rogg realised uneasily, _the doctor’s one of the xenophobes. If that’s the case, why is she the one looking after Vers?_

Dr Bona-Dea continued, oblivious to Yon-Rogg’s growing displeasure. Her violet eyes flickered down to the pad she was holding. “She is currently in one of the quarantine rooms so we can study the effects of the virus. We have some medical scientists working on a cure, but we do not have much knowledge of the virus at this time.”

“Understandable,” Yon-Rogg said. “When can I see her?”

The doctor pursed her lips. “Is there _truly_ a need to see her?”

Well, that decides it. Dr Bona-Dea will no longer be working on Vers’ case. Perhaps Yon-Rogg could contact one of Una’s old colleagues.

“Is there _truly_ a reason why I shouldn’t see a member of my team?” Yon-Rogg countered, tilting his head as he smiled at her with the pleasant coolness that Vers claimed ‘wigged people out’, whatever that meant.

Dr Bona-Dea swallowed, her hands gripping her tablet tightly. “Her room is through those doors on the left, sir. Her room is A-12. You’ll have to go through the sanitisation unit first.”

“Good,” Yon-Rogg said, “Thank you.”

He did not spare another glance at the doctor.

Yon-Rogg went through the metal box that was the sanitisation unit as quickly as possible, keeping his eyes closed and his mouth shut. He allowed himself to be drenched in some cold, foul-smelling disinfectant, sprayed with a chemical mist that made him sneeze and then blasted by the drier. The drier part of the unit needed some maintenance since it was running cold; there were a couple of spots on Yon-Rogg’s skin and on his shirt that weren’t fully dry.

He would inform the staff after he had been to see Vers. He identified the room that Vers was staying in by the two nurses coming outside, their voices muffled in their helmets as they carried out stacks of robust-looking chairs. They wore what was practically a radiation suit, which seemed like overkill for him. They saluted him, and he nodded at them as he opened the door to Vers’ room.

Yon-Rogg could immediately tell it wasn’t a room typically used for patients. It was too large, for one. He guessed it might have usually been a conference room, considering the chairs the two nurses were carrying out. 

The room’s walls were the same shade of white as the rest of the ward, but there was a glass wall that separated the room into halves. Yon-Rogg’s half of the room had a grey sofa floating in the middle of the space with a small table in front of it. There was a set-up similar to an airlock within the glass wall; a tiny chamber with a door at both ends. Next to the chamber was a small flap system that Yon-Rogg guessed they were going to be using to deliver food. 

The quarantine half of the room was stuffed full of furniture. There was an open bathroom, complete with a toilet, a sink and a shower. The only privacy afforded was a stiff, blue shower curtain around the area. A chair, identical to the ones the nurses carried out, placed next to a high wooden table, and a medical bed with crisp sheets that was pressed against the furthest wall. Vers was lounging on the bed, looking simultaneously extraordinarily peeved _and_ bored. Yet, as soon as she saw him, her face softened into a smile.

“Hey, Commander,” Vers said. “Have you been sanitised, or are you just nervous to see me?”

“I’ve been sanitised,” he replied flatly.

Vers pouted. “You’re no fun.” She stretched and rolled off the bed, coming up to the glass wall. She wore loose clothing in the blandest beige colour he had ever seen. Her armour had been destroyed as soon as the medics got back to Hala since it had been contaminated. “So when can I leave?”

“Two weeks.”

“Two- Two weeks?! What the hell?”

Yon-Rogg blinked at her reaction. “You’re in quarantine, Vers.”

“What?! Why?”

“Has no-one told you about your condition?”

“No, I woke up here with my blast wound already patched up. Dr Bona-Dea said I just had to wait here. Why, what did they tell you?”

“When Minn-Evra shot Valaxar, he had a vial in his pocket that cracked when his body fell. You, being in proximity to him, were infected with a new virus he had created.”

Why Valaxar decided to keep a virus in a fragile vial was beyond Yon-Rogg. But maybe the Sivian terrorist didn’t mind the thought of getting infected as long as it meant everyone else did too. 

Vers threw up her hands. “Great. Superb. Just another fucking thing to add to this disaster of a mission.”

“I know this mission had its difficulties...”

“Minn-Evra shot someone _through_ me. I think that classifies as more than a difficulty, Commander.”

“I will admit that Minn-Evra’s decision was reckless and unwise, considering the delicacy of the situation. She’s already been debriefed about her actions.”

Vers snorted. “Ooooh, she got _debriefed_. I bet that’s gonna sting.”

“Vers,” Yon-Rogg said sternly. “That’s enough.”

Vers ignored him. “You know she doesn’t like me, Yon-Rogg,” she said. “She hasn’t liked me since I woke up and I doubt she will like me anytime soon.”

“It’s not her job to like you.”

“No, but it would make our lives easier if she could at least play nice,” Vers crossed her arms. “ _I’m_ willing to play nice.”

Yon-Rogg sighed. “I understand that you and Minn-Evra have your differences but –”

“I’m Kreeblood with experimental powers. I’m different from everyone on this planet, and unfortunately, I can’t forget _that_ little piece of information, even if I try,” said Vers drily.

Yon-Rogg paused. Somebody had said something to her. 

Vers’ status as a Kreeblood had and continues to cause a lot of controversy on Hala. 

When the Supreme Intelligence had introduced Vers and her status to the Kree public, their outrage almost outweighed their reverence for the Supreme Intelligence. Giving blood to non-Kree had been outlawed for over a thousand years; the sentence for breaking this law was death for the Kreeblood and the Kree who donated the blood, whether it was willingly or not. 

No-one knew whose blood had saved Vers. The Supreme Intelligence had told the public that several different blood bags that had anonymously donated from a few medical wards were used. Only Yon-Rogg knew the truth. The Supreme Intelligence had had no say in the transfusion, and Yon-Rogg was still paying for his transgression.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. Now was not the time to think about that.“How are you feeling?”

Vers raised an eyebrow at him, unimpressed. “Like I’m recovering from a blast wound.”

“Do you need a tab?”

“Already had some. They didn’t work. Some tabs aren’t very effective with my _unique_ system,” Vers spat the word out, “so the good doctor has gone back to the drawing board.”

 _Das’t_. It was Dr Bona-Dea, who had insulted her.

“I wasn’t made aware of this.”

Vers shrugged. “I don’t think she particularly cares.”

“Well, she is going to be replaced by another doctor,” Yon-Rogg said. “I know a couple of other doctors that a friend used to work with.”

“You have friends?” Vers sat up. “Who?”

Yon-Rogg shook his head. “Despite what you think, I do know other people than you.”

“Yeah, but you don’t hang out with them. Who’s the friend?”

Yon-Rogg hesitated. “Her name was Una.”

“Oh,” Vers said, understanding fluttering across her face. She cleared her throat, awkwardly. “Well, try to get me a doctor who doesn’t insult me while scanning me, yeah?”

“I will. Get some rest. I’ll be back soon.”

* * *

“We would have thought that you might have taken better care of the weapon,” the Supreme Intelligence said.

There was something incredibly disquieting in looking at the Supreme Intelligence. He knew that it was mainly because They had taken on his likeness since the mission on C-53. It was the way that They used his face that unnerved him. The expression They wore was unfamiliar to him.

“Forgive me, I-“

“Why should We forgive you for your mistake?”

“I didn’t shoot Vers,” Yon-Rogg said weakly.

The Supreme Intelligence huffed at him, Their green eyes staring him down coldly. “It’s always someone else’s fault with you, isn’t it? You can’t bear to take responsibility for your actions. Your poor planning created the opportunity for Vers to get hurt. You lost control. _Again_.”

“I – Yes, it’s my fault.” There was no point arguing, Yon-Rogg knew. And if the Supreme Intelligence, the combined knowledge of the best Kree generals, scientists and politicians said it was his fault, then wasn’t it?

“Do you know what happens to weapons when they’re damaged beyond repair, and their usefulness has expired?” The Supreme Intelligence tilted Their head. Yon-Rogg felt a shudder rip through him. He knew, of course, he knew, and the Intelligence knew that he did. But They continued anyway. “They get decommissioned and destroyed.”

And then They were in front of him, grasping his throat and lifting him slightly off the ground. The shock of the sudden movement made all of his breath leave his body and, dizzily, he could only think of how Their hands were _his_.

“If you fail to keep the weapon in optimal, _compliant_ condition, you will be the one to decommission Vers.” They tightened their grip until Yon-Rogg’s eyes watered. Yet he resisted the urge to kick out, to struggle against the Supreme Intelligence’s hold. The first few times he had done that out of sheer instinct, the Supreme Intelligence had seemed amused and had taught him a lesson against resisting correction. “Remember the kindness I have shown the pair of you. What is given can be taken away. Is that understood?”

Yon-Rogg shut his eyes and nodded.

They released Yon-Rogg, and he fell to his knees, gasping and clutching at his neck. The Supreme Intelligence glared down at him. “Go.”

And with that, the shadowy world of the Intelligence fell away, and he was back within the Temple. He stood there for a moment before quickly turning away and leaving. Had anyone else been in the Temple, they might have said that he ran.

* * *

Vers was shivering violently.

“Are you cold?” Yon-Rogg shifted in concern. He had only been there a few minutes, but already he could tell that Vers was definitely worse than she had been when she was first admitted a few days ago. Dr Ace-So, the new doctor Yon-Rogg had assigned to Vers, had been closely monitoring her for the last few days and the wrinkles in Dr Ace-So’s forehead became more and more pronounced as she looked at the charts. Despite this, Dr Ace-So and Vers were getting along well enough.

“Fever,” Vers explained. Her face was pale, but there were high spots of colour on her cheeks, the colour similar to the purple skin of Dervanian plums. “Don’t worry about it.”

“You always say that and then things get worse,” Yon-Rogg pointed out. He didn’t like seeing Vers like this. He knew she was the strongest member of Starforce, but seeing her sick and tired tugged restlessly at something in him.

“I’ll be fine.”

“See, there you go again,” Yon-Rogg reached for the call button beside him. “I’m calling the doctor.”

“No, I don’t –” She sneezed, and something white-gold and fiery spasmed throughout her body. She was flung out of her chair and crashed into the wall, groaning.

Yon-Rogg flew to his feet. “Vers!”

“I’m okay.” She sneezed again, smaller this time, and photonic power rippled through her, making her hair flare upwards like a flickering flame for a brief moment before falling back down again. “Ugh.”

A laugh erupted from his mouth, shocking him and Vers. He covered his mouth. “I’m sorry. It was just... just so unexpected.”

“This?” Vers said and sneezed with another burst of golden light. She wrinkled her nose but also chuckled. “Typical, huh.”

“Do we need to adjust the settings on your implant?”

“Nah, I should be fine.” She got up, huffing slightly and went back to her chair.

“If you are sure.”

“I am,” she said. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

Yon-Rogg nodded. Vers knew her strength.

“Any other symptoms?”

“Nothing too important. Just a fever, a bit of a cough. I feel a bit stuffed up. I’ll let you know when it gets worse.”

“Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?”

“Well...” Vers said, grinning. “How would you feel about painting Minn-Evra’s rifle pink? Or adding hair dye to Bron-Char’s shampoo? ”

“What?”

“Obviously, we would need to do something to ourselves,” Vers continued. “to stop them suspecting us. I think the classic ink on the inside of your helmet would work for you-“

“Why would I do that?”

“It’s important to me and my mental wellbeing.”

“I am not helping you mess with my team, Vers,” Yon-Rogg said flatly.

“No, no,” Vers said. “See, you’re thinking about it wrong. Think of it as... testing their vigilance. Can you say for certain that they don’t let their guard down once they’re safe and sound on Hala? You’d just be keeping them on their toes.”

Yon-Rogg bit back a smile. Admittedly the idea had merit, even if the primary intention was Vers’ strange version of entertainment. “Perhaps. But you won’t be able to see the results of your fine work.”

“Yeah, okay, point,” she replied. She flung her legs over the arm of her chair, her bare feet flexing. The position did not look comfortable to Yon-Rogg, but Vers seemed content. “ _Very_ good point. I do want to see their faces.”

“Have you been doing anything else?”

“I’ve mostly been catching up on my Kree studies,” Vers said. “Figured I had all this time so might as well put it to good use.”

“Excellent,” Yon-Rogg praised her. He moved back to sit on the couch, stretching out his legs. “What have you been reading?”

“Poetry in the Kree language,” she answered. “The Kree seem to write more poetry than books. I guess it must be hard to write novels on the combat field.”

“Anything you like?”

“Lots. I think I prefer Mou-Sai to Idy-Yll. Idy-Yll is a little too fussy for my taste.”

“Idy-Yll tends to drone on a bit,” Yon-Rogg agreed. He had hated studying Idy-Yll as a child, despite his tutors’ efforts.

“There’s also something I noticed about the Kree language,” Vers said. “There are words for emotions, like sad or happy, but there’s no word for love. It doesn’t translate in the Universal Translator. Why is that?”

 _Huh._ Yon-Rogg hadn’t expected Vers to pick up on that. Not many people who learned the Kree language even realised it.

“Good question. The emotion ‘love’ has countless applications; from people like our family, friends or lovers, to food or music. This is the reason why we do not have a word for love in the Kree language; there are too many different types of love. Love is a spectrum, too broad and complicated to explain concisely in words. Therefore, in Kree culture, to love is something you must _do_ , rather than _say_.”

“What about hatred? We have a word for hatred. Is hate not broad and complicated?”

“Hate is hate,” Yon-Rogg said simply. “The Kree have a collective history of hate. But everyone’s love is different.”

“It’s kind of pretty the way you describe it,” Vers said. “But could it be argued the other way around? That by unifying the emotion with one word, you make every type as valid and as important as the rest.”

Yon-Rogg paused, considering. “I never thought about it like that.”

“Maybe it was my people’s way of thinking about it. That love is love, simple as that.”

“Maybe,” Yon-Rogg said. 

He couldn’t help but be impressed with Vers’ insight, though he was not sure why Vers was so fixated on ‘love’ in the first place. He knew that Vers was somewhat of a lonely individual, given her situation. She had a hard time making friends, and she still lived in a high-security building, due to some Kree being particularly against having a living Kreeblood walking around in the streets. He knew that Vers was an emotional person and, though he did not know much about Terrans, perhaps her people were more sociable than the Kree were. Perhaps she was unconsciously feeling at a loss with Kree society, a society that is not as verbal about their emotions as Vers was.

He scratched his cheek, feeling the slightest hint of fuzz growing. “But let’s go into how we Kree demonstrate the emotion. You have noticed that in our society is, to use other worlds’ definition, a ‘free-love’ society, yes?”

“Yeah. It’s not like that in many other worlds, is it?”

“No. From what I can understand, there are… reservations, shall we say, on other worlds on who you can be with or how many people you can be with. In the Kree Empire, as long as the people in question are non-related, consenting adults, they may be with whoever they please. However, because we are at war, the Supreme Intelligence introduced a law a few thousand years ago where Kree can only be with other Kree, due to some soldiers letting important information slip.”

“Loose lips sink ships,” Vers mumbled softly, her eyes distant for an unsettling moment. She blinked, and her eyes cleared. “Or, in our case, blow them up.”

“Exactly. We have this ‘free love’ society, partly because of our ancient religion. The emotion that others refer to as ‘love’ is the reason we have the Four Paths: Protection, Devotion, Guidance and Service. Often these Paths tie in with one another, and all of these lead us to fulfil the Kree purpose; to succeed, prosper and grow.”

“Devotion is the sex path, right?”

Yon-Rogg exhaled slowly through his nose, trying not to show his exasperation.“The Devotion path doesn’t mean _just_ sex. Sex is one of the many methods for someone following the Path. One of our prophets once said that the feeling when a person climaxes is the closest to the ecstatic reward the ancient gods give Kree warriors after death. However, there are Kree who do not enjoy sex, so they have found this ecstasy in other forms.”

“Like alcohol?”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Clearly, you’ve never tried a Rexlovan Fireball.” She swung her legs back down and leaned forward, fully facing him. “What about food?”

“Some foods do have that effect,” he acknowledged.

“Like Er-Lo’s! Er-Lo’s dumpling soup is _sooooo_ good.” Vers shifted in her seat. “So, you mentioned the Paths… I was always curious about that. Would my Path be the Protection one since I’m in Starforce? As a general sort of good feeling towards the Kree Empire?”

Good feeling. Not loyalty, Yon-Rogg noted. This did not surprise him. Hala has not fully accepted her yet nor Vers Hala. Her loyalty will come in time. 

“I chose my Path to be the Protection Path by becoming a soldier. What you choose yours to be is up to you.”

Vers hummed. “Did you always think your Path would be Protection?”

“I was born for it,” Yon-Rogg said. “My father and my brother had taken the Service Path by becoming scientists, and my mother had been on the Guidance Path as a temple attendant. But the Protection Path had always felt right to me, more in line with my character.”

“And your friend, Una?”

He froze for a moment. “She was on the Service Path.”

“Tell me more about her,” Vers said.

“Why?”

“I’m curious.”

“You and your curiosity,” Yon-Rogg teased. He licked his lips nervously and got up from his seat, suddenly feeling restless. There was no reason why Vers should not know, and yet it somehow felt like he was walking into a battlefield without any armour or weapons. He did not like the feeling. He wandered away from Vers, pretending to be interested in one of the diagrams on the wall. “We had been childhood friends, growing up together in Lower Hala. She was the one who patched up my injuries whenever I got back from the gym as she was training as a medic. When we were older, our families had talked of a marriage between us.”

“Did you want there to be?”

He studied the diagram harder, taking his time to reply. “I wasn’t opposed to it. I thought it wouldn’t be so bad if it were my friend.”

“Did you love her?”

That was a difficult question to answer. Una had been there since Yon-Rogg could remember. Even now, more than a decade after her death, he remembered how steady Una’s hands were when she was stitching up his gashes from training, the way she would tuck her short, copper hair back behind her ear when she was nervous or stressed, how she had beamed at him with pride when he was accepted into the military academy. Una had been unyielding, a mountain of strength withstanding the storm of prejudice they both had faced as pink Kree. When he had first met the Supreme Intelligence after being accepted into Starforce, They had taken on her likeness.

So Una had been important to him, yes. But then everything went wrong.

“She was just... Una. And then she was dead. She was killed in combat by some Aakons.”

Because of Mar-Vell. It always led back to Mar-Vell, in the end.

“I’m sorry.” 

“It cannot be helped,” Yon-Rogg said simply, pushing down the age-old pangs of grief. His grief was his own to deal with; Vers had enough on her mind. “Una has joined the Collective now. She served her people well.”

“I’m scared about joining the Collective,” Vers admitted softly.

Yon-Rogg startled. He turned back to face her. “Vers, they are working on a treatment–”

“No, I’m not worried about dying from this. I meant what happens afterwards. I just–” She sighed, frustrated. “I’m worried that when I die, I won’t be able to join the Collective because I’m Kreeblood. But I’m also worried that if I do join the Collective that I won’t be able to join whatever afterlife my family believed in, that I will never see them again. It’s bad enough I can’t remember them.”

Yon-Rogg stood silently, feeling the soft, familiar creep of guilt crawl down his chest. He let it sink in, knowing that it was what he deserved.

“Can I be honest with you?” Vers asked.

“Always.”

“I’m not scared of dying. I’m not scared of pain. The thing I’m afraid most of is forgetting and losing everything again. I can’t remember my parents’ faces; I don’t know whether I had siblings or a spouse or children. I don’t even know if I had someone like your Una.” Vers shut her eyes. “Sometimes, when I dream, it’s not always about the Skrulls. Sometimes it’s me losing my memory and having to start over again. In those dreams, I don’t even recognise you.”

He wished he could be in that quarantine room, just to be there for her. But the wall still divided them. _It was strange_ , Yon Rogg thought, _that such a small thing makes the distance between us seem so large_.

Yon-Rogg swallowed. “I don’t care if you remember me or not, Vers. I’d still be your Commander.”

_I’d still be your friend._

Vers’ lips quirked up, the crease in her forehead smoothing. “Thanks.” She leant back. “Though, if I did join the Collective, you would still have to put up with me.”

“ _Das’t._ Guess I’ll have to live forever then.”

Vers laughed. “Guess so.”

* * *

_Uppercut. Sidekick. Left hook. Roundhouse._

Yon-Rogg caught the punching-bag as it swung back towards him, huffing. Work-outs weren’t quite the same without Vers there beside him.

A pack of soldiers laughing uproariously behind him made him grit his teeth.

Not to mention, the Higher Hala military gym was deafeningly loud.

The gym was the largest in Hala, bigger even than the government buildings. It was a hundred-story building, and the majority of its interior decor consisted of glass walls and doors with silver chrome archways. The sleek exercise equipment was the highest in the market with some of it unreleased to the general public. Yet, voices rose and fell, the volume reaching as high as the ceilings. Somewhere in the distance, he could hear blasters firing in one of the ranges. The blender from the juice bar a few rooms over shrieked to life. Despite having a couple of hundred meditation rooms, Yon-Rogg did not believe anyone could reach a peaceful state of mind here in this place.

Another bark of laughter from the group made the scowl on his face deepen. He looked over to the group and saw that some of the male soldiers were taking their shirts off as they exercised, sweat dripping off of their frames. Several patrons eyed them, smirking as the men flexed their arms. Somebody whistled.

 _Ridiculous_ , Yon-Rogg thought, _how will they be able to handle wearing a uniform if they can’t even sweat in a shirt?_

Yon-Rogg preferred his gym in Lower Hala than the Higher Hala military gym. It may be basic and more humble in its offerings for its patrons, but it suited his needs. Everyone in the military gym was too focused on one-upping another, rather than bettering themselves. Vers was of a similar opinion, he knew. It was why he took her to the gym in Lower Hala in the first place. She did not do well under the scrutiny of others, especially those who wanted her to fail. She tended to push herself too hard and would get frustrated if she did not get things right the first time, which sometimes led to a photon-blasted wall.

Admittedly, he could have simply found another gym in Higher Hala. But it was that rundown Lower Hala gym that had started his journey to becoming a warrior. It felt oddly fitting for Vers’ journey too.

But the military gym was closer to the medical ward so it would suffice until Vers was feeling better. He glanced at the clock on the wall, a wonky-looking designer piece that was more decorative than actually useful. As soon as he understood what it was saying, he began stretching to cool down. Visiting hours at the medical ward were starting soon.

It was as he was passing the lobby of the military gym to go to the shower rooms that he saw Att-Lass and Minn-Evra chatting to the receptionist. Both were dressed in their training gear like him, but they carried the new blasters that Yon-Rogg had recently ordered and had dispatched to their apartments.

He called their names, and they immediately strolled over to him.

“Commander,” Att-Lass saluted him. Beside him, Minn-Evra copied his actions.

“At ease,” Yon-Rogg said. “I see you’re training with the new models today.”

“We are!” Att-Lass beamed at him. Yon-Rogg both liked and pitied Att-Lass. He was one of the more positive members of Starforce, but he reminded Yon-Rogg of his younger self when he first started on his Path; ambitious but idealistic and still not fully exposed to the horrors of war. “Just heading to the range now. Do you want to join us?”

“I can’t, unfortunately.” He gestured vaguely over his shoulder. “I’m heading up to the medical ward in a bit.”

“You’re injured?”

“No, I’m just visiting Vers.”

“You’re visiting Vers?” Minn-Evra straightened up. She hadn’t said anything until now, and her tone was hostile. “Why?”

Yon-Rogg stared at her in slight bewilderment. “I’m her Commander,” he said slowly, obviously not getting the question. He did visit his team whenever they ended up in the medical ward, so his behaviour was not out of the ordinary.

Att-Lass shot Minn-Evra a quelling look. “How’s she doing? What have the doctors said?”

Yon-Rogg’s brow furrowed. “You haven’t been to see Vers?”

“Well, no,” Att-Lass confessed. “I wasn’t sure if it was my place. I mean, I am only her teammate.”

This surprised Yon-Rogg since Att-Lass and Vers seemed to be on friendly terms, even if Att-Lass struggled with Vers’ sense of humour sometimes. He started to re-evaluate the entire conversation and Att-Lass and Minn-Evra’s reactions. Was his mentorship alienating Vers from the rest of the team?

Perhaps. Still, Att-Lass should visit Vers. She would like to see a face other than his.

“I see,” Yon-Rogg said mildly. “Tell me... what other visitors should Vers expect? Her family?”

Att-Lass opened his mouth and then closed it. “I –”

“Should get on the range,” Yon-Rogg replied. “Those models won’t test themselves. Let me know how you get on.”

“Yes, sir.” Att-Lass turned to Minn-Evra. “You ready?”

“Give me a minute.”

Att-Lass frowned, but went ahead, casting a curious look over his shoulder.

Yon-Rogg waited until he was out of sight before turning his attention to Minn-Evra. “You wanted something, Minn-Evra?”

“Can we speak more privately, Commander?”

He looked across the lobby and spotted an empty meditation room. “In there.”

Quickly, they entered and shut the door, locking it. Yon-Rogg turned on a switch, and the glass walls in the meditation room immediately turned opaque. “What did you want to speak to me about?”

Minn-Evra crossed her arms. “You spend too much time with the Terran.”

Yon-Rogg stiffened. “She’s not Terran anymore.”

“Well, she’s not Kree either.”

_In the ways that matter, she is._

“Vers is a valuable member of Starforce and to the Kree Empire,” he replied coolly. “And you know that we’re not permitted to speak of what happened on C-53.”

“She’s just a weapon.” Minn-Evra snapped. “She’s just a tool at our dispense and not a particularly effective one.”

“And you are?” Yon-Rogg raised his eyebrows. “Need I remind you that your recent actions have created the risk of a pandemic on Hala and put another member of Starforce temporarily out of commission.”

He may have planned poorly enough that the mission ended the way it did, but he did not shoot Valaxar through Vers, and he was going to make sure Minn-Evra felt some remorse for that.

Minn-Evra made an irritated noise. “I made a decision –”

“A terrible one,” Yon-Rogg cut her off. “I understand that you’re planning to take on a command role at some point in your career.”

“I am.”

“Then, as a commander, let me give you some advice: accept that you made a mistake and learn from it.”

“Vers cannot be trusted. She’s not one of us.”

“So you decided to shoot Vers because of this?”

“No, I decided to _finish_ the mission.”

Things seemed to slide to a halt. “And which mission are we talking about here, Minn-Evra?”

She did not answer. She simply stared back at him in seething, damning silence.

Yon-Rogg was not a fool. He knew what the rest of the Starforce had said about him picking favourites and how Vers had replaced Minn-Evra. Truthfully, he did not mean to make it seem so. But favouritism was considered a part of selecting his successor as Commander of Starforce. Commanders recommended successors to their position to the Supreme Intelligence in the event of death or retirement, and usually, the chosen successor was elected. Most successors were the second-in-command, as Yon-Rogg had been, but Korath had been elected to the position by the Supreme Intelligence after the death of their old Commander, Zen-Pram. However, the Supreme Intelligence had made Yon-Rogg know that Korath planned to transfer to the Accuser Corps as a Pursuer once he had gained enough experience in Starforce. Minn-Evra had, therefore, been Yon-Rogg’s natural choice for a time, and she had known it too. Yon-Rogg had admired her ruthless efficiency, her resolve. Now, he felt disgusted by her. She had not chosen the Protection Path for anyone’s benefit but her own.

It wasn’t until he had met Vers that he realised that Minn-Evra lacked certain qualities. It wasn’t until Vers did he question what it meant to be a Kree warrior.

“I suppose you believe you know better than the Supreme Intelligence?” Yon-Rogg stepped forward towards Minn-Evra, feeling his face turn into something harsh and cold. Unconsciously, Minn-Evra manoeuvred herself defensively, ready to either flee or fight. “I don’t think I have to remind you what happened to the last person who thought they knew better than the Intelligence.”

Her eyes flickered down to the gun by his side.

Having made his point, Yon-Rogg relaxed and shifted back into a casual pose. His face, though, had not lost the terrible expression from before. “Your prejudice blinds you. If you cannot move past it, then remain silent.”

“I’m not the only one who is blind,” Minn-Evra finally bit out. “You’re so dazzled by Vers’ light show that you don’t see the shadows she brings.”

Yon-Rogg clenched his jaw. “Do not speak to me about this matter again. You’re dismissed.”

Minn-Evra visibly startled and Yon-Rogg felt a vicious surge of satisfaction at her face. Yon-Rogg never outright dismissed anyone, apart from new recruits (and that was because they did not know him well). Minn-Evra had grown too comfortable in her position as his apparent heir to his Commandership. Let her know how far she had fallen from his favour.

Minn-Evra slowly saluted him. “Commander.”

He watched her leave the room before departing for the shower rooms.

The shower cubicles were perhaps the only rooms in the building that allowed for complete privacy. Very few people were in them at this time, and the loud, repetitive slap of water on the grey tiles made hearing anything redundant.

In his shower cubicle, he methodically undressed out of his sweaty training gear and took off his armour bracelet. His fingers shook as he turned on the shower, changing the temperature from warm to scalding hot. Water rained down on him, and at last, he allowed himself to panic in peace.

He thought of the Supreme Intelligence’s demands and Minn-Evra’s insubordination.

Then he thought of Vers’ worries. Her fear of what awaited her after death.

He thought of her family, to Vers’ life before Hala. Before Mar-Vell. Did she still have a living family before he took her from C-53? Undoubtedly, she would be missed by them if she did.

He hadn’t meant for things to go this far when he took Vers from C-53. He had not intended to rip a family apart, like Mar-Vell.

He hadn’t intended a lot of things. But he had done them.

He let out something that was half a broken sob, half a whimper that was drowned out by the sound of the shower. Immediately, he pulled himself back together, clapping a hand over his mouth, appalled at his sudden loss of control.

Minn-Evra’s words came back into his mind. **_“You’re so dazzled by Vers’ light show that you don’t see the shadows she brings.”_ **

Vers’ dreams about losing her memory, her dreams about an enemy pointing a gun at her...

 _I do see her shadows,_ Yon-Rogg thought, his eyes burning. _I’m the one who put them there._

He sucked in a shuddering breath and switched the water to a cooler temperature.

Yon-Rogg will do what he has always done: keep Vers alive. It was part of his Path now.

Vers needed people on her side, apart from him. Att-Lass and Bron-Char would be a good start. He could organise several training exercises with them together. Att-Lass and Bron-Char liked Vers well enough; he just needed to encourage them to like her more.

The situation with Minn-Evra would be more difficult. As much as he would like to remove her from the team, he couldn’t. Only the Supreme Intelligence could do that, and he knew that They would not do it. Yon-Rogg would need to keep Minn-Evra away from Vers for the time being, at least until Vers was more solidly part of the team.

He shut off the shower. He had work to do.

* * *

One thing that Yon-Rogg knew about Vers is that she always needed to be doing something, whether it was running, training or mouthing off to Korath or Minn-Evra.

The only time he had seen her still was when she had been dead.

So he wasn’t shocked when he came into the room to find Vers dancing.

The music playing wasn’t from Hala or even Kree, but it was from one of the other planets in the Empire. It was what Vers called a ‘jive’, and she was happily wiggling her hips to the music. She was off-beat, and her movements were stiff, but the raw delight in her face as she bobbed her head made his chest feel lighter than it had done in days. She was looking better than before.

When she turned around and spotted Yon-Rogg watching her in amusement, there was no embarrassment. She simply shimmied up to the wall, comically exaggerating her movements. “Dance with me!”

“Here?”

“Why not? We dance in your apartment. Come on, get your groove on.”

“Bit of a different setting.”

“Aw,” Vers said. Her voice was hoarse like her throat had been scrubbed raw with a cloth, to the point some words grated harshly against his ears. “Will dancing ruin your reputation?”

“No,” Yon-Rogg said. “We already did that during the Military Ball last year, remember?”

“Er, no, we elevated our reputation, thank you very much.” She tossed her head proudly, striking a pose. “We were on fire that night.”

“I recall that you were _actually_ on fire.”

“Listen, we taught the racist snobs a lesson; I’m counting it as a win.” She coughed, rubbing her throat. Grimacing, she continued. “Hardly our fault that they don’t appreciate Lower Hala folk dancing.”

“I only taught you those dances to help you with your powers,” Yon-Rogg complained.

“Listen, when I asked you to train me, I told you to make me the best version of myself. It’s just my interpretation includes destroying some egos with my funky dance moves.”

Yon-Rogg shook his head, amused. “Funky dance moves?”

Vers raised her chin stubbornly. “Yep. The funkiest.”

“You’re feeling better then.”

“I have a headache. I think the lights are making it worse.”

“But you’re well enough to dance, that’s good news.”

“Still in quarantine though.”

“It’s for the best.”

“I know. But it sucks.”

“I know,” Yon-Rogg grimaced in sympathy. He hated being stuck in the medical ward too. Truth be told, he would sometimes pull rank to go home to recover in peace so the nurses would stop prodding him. “But as soon as you’re out of here, we’ll do something fun.”

“So you’re saying... if this virus doesn’t take me out, you will?” She wagged her eyebrows at him playfully.

“Please don’t joke about that.”

“Okay, okay,” Vers pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Wanna go to Er-Lo’s? I’m missing their dumpling soup.”

“Sure,” Yon-Rogg said. “But you’re not allowed to steal my dumplings.”

“I maintain that food is tastier if it isn’t yours.” 

Yon-Rogg rolled his eyes. He would just order extra dumplings for his soup then.

Vers started coughing again, a deep, hacking sound exploding from her chest. The attack started for a full minute before she recovered. “ _Ahem_. Sorry. What was I saying?”

“Something about stealing my dumplings making them taste better.”

“Dumplings from Er-Lo’s? We should go there after this. I want their soup.”

“You… You said before.”

“Speaking of food,” Vers crossed her arms. Something in Vers’ tone made Yon-Rogg’s spine straighten up. “Bron-Char and Att-Lass came to visit me yesterday. Bron-Char made me some stew.”

This seemed significant, somehow.

“The spicy one?”

“Yeah, cleaned my sinuses right out,” Vers tilted her head. “I don’t suppose you would happen to know why they really visited, do you?”

_And there it is._

“What do you mean?”

“You told them to visit me, didn’t you?”

“Not explicitly.”

“Yon-Rogg,” Vers sighed. “I don’t want pity.”

“It’s not pity, Vers. Att-Lass wasn’t sure if you wanted him to visit. I merely encouraged him to do so.”

“I don’t want pity, Yon-Rogg,” Vers repeated. 

“You don’t have a life outside of training, your lessons or missions,” Yon-Rogg continued, going for brutal honesty as always. Vers had little patience for tact. “You don’t talk to many people, and you keep those you do talk to at a distance. I’m... concerned.”

“Why are you concerned, Commander?” Vers said, confused.

“It’s been two years, Vers, since you came to Hala. You’ve adapted to being a soldier, you’ve adapted to your powers. But I don’t think you’ve adapted to being alive.”

“I don’t – I don’t understand. I’m breathing.” 

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” Yon-Rogg licked his lips, nervous about broaching the subject. “And I know it’s because of your past.”

Vers looked furious for a split second and then defeated. “I feel like I would be replacing them,” she admitted, looking away from him. “If I make friends here. I feel like... if I move on, it’s disrespectful. Stupid, right? I don’t even remember them.” 

“I don’t pretend to understand, Vers. I have, fortunately, never been in your position. And I won’t invalidate your feelings on this subject. But, please, don’t damn yourself to nothing just because you’ve lost everything.”

 _You deserve everything, Vers._ He wanted to say, _Every good thing. And I’m sorry that the universe stuck you with me instead._

And yet something of his thoughts must have reached Vers. She looked as though something had simultaneously torn her heart out and knocked the breath out of her. Her eyes, those dark eyes that have fascinated him from the beginning, filled with tears.

“Yon-Rogg,” Vers said. “I –” She shook her head, and the tears went away. “If I move on, I’d be replacing them. Stupid, isn’t it? I don’t remember...”

“Again, Vers, you deserve to have a life.”

Her nose scrunched up in bewilderment, ignoring Yon-Rogg. “Why am I here?”

“Vers?”

“Why… How did I get… here? ”

“Vers, what do you mean?”

“I –”

 _Drip. Drip. Drip._ Spots of cerulean began to splash onto the white floor.

“Vers?”

They stared at each other for a brief moment before a thick stream of blue ran from Vers’ nose. She swayed and stumbled as though someone had punched her in the head. Her eyes widened, and her hand went to her throat, her nails gouging into the sides of her neck. Without warning, blood and vomit spilled past her mouth, blue and brown mixing into a deep black- purple. She crumpled to the floor on her knees, trembling and clawing at her throat, her fingernails already becoming stained with blue.

“Vers!” Yon-Rogg slammed the call button. “Vers, can you hear me?”

Her arms and legs jerked around, and her eyes rapidly moved from side to side, pleading, imploring for help. 

_A seizure,_ Yon-Rogg thought, _she must be having a seizure._

Precious seconds were flying by, and no medical staff were responding. 

Vers’ face was darkening to purple as she tried to gasp for breath around the vomit in her mouth, her lips turning blue. 

There wasn’t much time. 

He mentally commanded his armour bracelet to activate, and immediately his armour formed over his clothes. He twisted his bracelet to activate his helmet and the green shield around the lower half of his face. He hoped that would be enough to protect him from the virus.

Getting through the doors to Vers’ chamber was, in Yon-Rogg’s opinion, the biggest _fucking_ inconvenience of his life. He had managed to shut the door to get into the airlock chamber fine. It was when he ripped the clearance panel off to get in the other door that the chamber started this high-pitched wail and flashing red lights. It was doing nothing to make this situation better.

Una would have never allowed this to happen. Yon-Rogg was going to make the hospital staff _beg_ for their jobs as soon as this was over.

He finally, _finally_ reached Vers. She had stopped moving, and her eyes were closed, but she was still choking, a small, horrible keening sound coming from her throat. He turned Vers on her side, and with his gloved fingers, scooped any vomit out of her mouth, making sure her airways were clear.

 _Don’t die, Vers. I’ll give you anything you want, all the dumplings in the universe, just please don’t die_ , he thought nonsensically. 

He tried using his comms. “Commander Yon-Rogg to medical staff, please respond immediately. Vers is down, repeat, Vers is down. I’m in her unit now.”

Vers looked so small. She had never seemed fragile to him before now. The sight shook him to the core.

“Commander Yon-Rogg to medical staff, please come to room A-12 immediately. Hello? Please respond.”

A small, pained whimper erupted from Vers’ chest, and Yon-Rogg looked down to find her eyes fluttering open.

“Yon?” Vers mumbled blearily. A stray trail of blood-vomit slid past the corner of her mouth and down her cheek. “Yon?”

He hushed her, trying to keep his tone steady. “Shhh, it’s alright, help’s on the way. Just sit tight, okay? You’re gonna be okay.”

She merely blinked up at him, her eyes slowly beginning to focus. 

He called the medical staff again. Nothing.

“Yon?” Vers smiled sloppily. At that moment, he could only think that it was one of the best things he had ever seen. “Have you got a fever? ‘Cause _damn_ , you’re hot.”

Yon-Rogg snorted wetly. “That’s terrible.”

Vers chuckled. “Sorry... my…. material’s a bit… limited right now.” She swallowed, grimacing. Tears fell from her eyes, sliding down her pale cheeks. “I don’t... feel very good.”

“The doctors’ coming.” He smoothed her hair with his clean hand. She wouldn’t appreciate vomit in her hair. “They’ll help, I promise.”

“You shouldn’t... be here. The virus –”

“Shut up. I wasn’t going to watch you choke to death on your own sick,” Yon-Rogg said firmly. “It’s not the most pleasant way to go.”

“Your bedside manner’s shit.” A shiver wracked through her. “It’s so cold.”

“I know.” He didn’t, but he stroked her hair softly. He couldn’t feel it through his glove. He wondered if it was soft. “It’s alright, you’ll be alright.”

“I don’t want to go,” Vers said, her eyes beginning to close. “I’m not ready. Please, Yon.”

“Stay awake, Vers. You have to stay awake. You’re going to make it through this, but you have to listen to me, now more than ever. Please, _please_ , you have to stay awake.”

“Okay,” she whispered. “I trust you.”

And then the medical team finally, _finally_ burst through the doors in their hazard suits. But as the room began to flood with noise and machines, Yon-Rogg kept his hand tightly gripping hers and his eyes locked with hers.

 _Please_ , Yon-Rogg prayed, begged. _Please_.

* * *

When he was young, he saw a star die.

Of course, it had already been dead for a very long time by the time Yon-Rogg saw the last glimpse of its light in that indigo sky. Yet that last shiver of light before it disappeared completely had been forever entrenched in his mind.

Embarrassingly, he had cried afterwards, great, heaving sobs that racked his little chest. His brother had been his typical teenage self; unsympathetic and slightly morbid, saying that everything comes to an end, which had only scared Yon-Rogg more and made him cry harder.

It had been his mother that had comforted him.

“We are made of stardust, little one,” his mother said to him as she held him tight in her arms. “The stars die so we can live. Where there is life, there is death. The old gods made it so, and the Supreme Intelligence respects this balance too.”

Since then, he thought he understood the balance. And when he joined the military, he saw soldiers die again and again and again, the same light as the star going out in their eyes. He tried to make sense of it in his head, that they had died so others could live, so that others could take up the fight.

But then it was his mother’s light going out. Several years later, his father’s, his brother’s, and also his commander’s. Two years after that, Una’s. And finally, Mar-Vell’s. He had put that one out himself.

His life was a sky of lights fluttering out.

But Vers... she was a star reborn and made into flesh.

And he had almost seen her light go out again.

Yon-Rogg leaned against the glass of his unit, keeping his vigil over Vers.

His self-isolation unit had been set up in the same room as Vers’ at his insistence. It was much smaller than hers, due to the limited space, but it suited Yon-Rogg’s needs.

Vers had nearly not made it, Dr Ace-So had admitted to him. If they had been a few minutes later, she would have died.

Apart from the horror that Yon-Rogg had felt at how close he was to losing her and the relief that he hadn’t, he could only think of why the medical team had not responded quicker. He was going to file an official complaint after this was over with. 

For now, though, he was stuck filling out reports until his self-isolation was over. The doctor was unsure if Yon-Rogg had caught the virus or not, given that his suit and mask had been fully covered him, but they were not taking any chances.

Starforce was going to be out of commission until Yon-Rogg was released, something he knew he was going to face consequences for. Especially since his armour had to be destroyed.

His pad flashed with a message. It was from the Supreme Intelligence.

_Shit._

Trembling slightly, he opened it.

**_Do you still believe that the weapon is worth risking your life over, Yon-Rogg?_ **

Out of the edge of his eye, he detected movement.

Yon-Rogg flicked his eyes over to Vers, who was stirring in her bed. Her eyes opened and caught his.

“Hey Yon,” she croaked.

He put the pad down, his mouth curving upwards. “Hello, Vers.”

* * *

It took another week for the hospital to release both of them.

It meant that Yon-Rogg was able to finish all of his reports and paperwork for the next few weeks. He filed a new order for armour bracelets for him and Vers. He was even able to take some time for himself; he did some meditation, read a few books and trained as much as he could in his unit. It was almost like a holiday at first. But as the days stretched on, Yon-Rogg got restless.

He was glad when they were released. Vers was ecstatic.

“FREEDOM!” She ran through the medical ward doors and spun around in a circle on the steps, breathing in the air with a contented sigh. “I never thought I’d miss the smell of pollution!”

He followed her through the doors and was promptly hit by the familiar hot wall of humidity. Already, he could see Vers’ hair begin to frizz. 

“Slow down, Vers,” Yon-Rogg said. He could feel a grin slide onto his face, despite himself. She always moved faster and lighter when she was happy, almost as if the joy she felt made her physically buoyant. Seeing her like this was, for lack of a better word, infectious. “You don’t want to hurt yourself and have to go back, do you?” 

“Quickly!” She grabbed his arm and began dragging him down the steps and onto the street. “Let’s book it before the doctors change their minds.”

Yon-Rogg was certain that the doctors would _not_ change their minds. The doctors had to consult for a couple of days to see if they thought the virus threat was gone before Yon-Rogg and Vers were released. Additionally, he thought he overheard that Vers’ constant chatter was starting to irritate the nurses, which he felt reflected on the nurses’ bedside manner rather badly. “Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

“I guess this means we’re back to our usual routine tomorrow, huh?”

Yon-Rogg shook his head. “We’ll be taking it easy since you’re still recovering.”

“Pfft, I’ll be fine.”

Yon-Rogg turned a stern look at her. “No, you won’t.”

Vers huffed. “Does that mean we’re taking the train to the gym tomorrow?”

“Yes, no running there. It will be too strenuous.”

“Ughhhhhhh.”

“Don’t complain,” Yon-Rogg said lightly. “Do you want to go back to the medical ward? We can walk back right now.”

“Alright, alright,” Vers held her hands up. “I’ll behave.”

“Good.”

“Thanks for visiting me while I was in quarantine.”

“It was no trouble,” Yon-Rogg said. He hesitated for a brief moment before saying, “Just thought you were suffering from a lack of vitamin ME.”

Vers’ jaw dropped wide open for a moment and then she burst into a fit of delighted laughter. She reached out and grabbed his shoulder, steadying herself as she wiped her eyes. “Oh my god, Yon,” she said before lapsing into giggles again.

“I did it right?”

“Yeah,” she beamed at him. “Yeah, you did great.”

He grinned, looking down at his feet. When he looked up, Vers was staring at him with a soft expression on her face. Before he thought to ask her why she was looking at him like that, she changed the topic to the new equipment he had ordered for Starforce.

They leisurely strode through Higher Hala, dodging soldiers and civilians that barged past them in their hurry. Down the street, someone swore loudly as someone clipped their shoulder and slopped their drink over them. A Kree priest stood on the steps of the Ministry of Finance, loudly preaching about the old gods and their hatred of material wealth, while two attendants attempted to hand out leaflets to passers-by. Candied nuts were being shovelled into bags by a vendor, their warm sweet-spicy smell hanging heavily in the air. Magnificent, gold buildings rose from the ground to tower above them all. Commercial and military spaceships swerved and slid across the sky almost recklessly, their familiar hissing sound adding to the loud noise of the street.

“You know, you didn’t have to visit me,” Vers said suddenly.

Yon-Rogg couldn’t help but feel a slight pang of hurt at that. “Did you not want me there?”

“No, I did. But you didn’t have to. I know you’re busy and all.”

“Why would I not visit you? You’re a member of Starforce.”

“The others didn’t until you told them to. But also, you visited me every day. Att-Lass said that wasn’t something you typically did.”

There were multiple ways he could justify his daily visits. One would be that he was a Commander and he could visit who he liked. Another explanation would be that Vers, a member of his team, had been ill with a deadly virus after being infected by a terrorist so he would need to be constantly updated on the situation. His Path included the protection of his team, after all.

But for once, he wanted to tell the truth.

“The others,” Yon-Rogg said, “are not my friend.”

“Oh,” Vers said. She looked down at her feet before grinning up at him so brightly that the neon lights of the city seemed to pale in comparison. “You’re my friend too.”

They walked back to Vers’ apartment in a somewhat shy but comfortable silence.

They passed a mural that stretched up the left side of the Ministry of Law building. It was Yon-Rogg’s favourite artwork. It was of the planets in the Kree Empire, spotted around in a deep-black blue background. There were no specks of light to represent stars. In fact, the only star was the symbol of the Supreme Intelligence. It was situated right at the top of the mural, its gleaming light able to be seen from several streets over. The lit star, the small accompanying inscription said, was to demonstrate how constant and how far-reaching the wisdom the Supreme Intelligence provided to the Empire was.

Yet, as he glanced at the star as it loomed above them, something in his stomach soured.

Yon-Rogg couldn’t help but wonder if he had done the right thing in becoming Vers’ friend instead of just her commander, given the circumstances. _Das’t_ , why did everything have to become so complicated? Why couldn’t he have kept his distance? And yet, he couldn’t find it in himself to regret it. There was an incredibly selfish part of him that got downright _giddy_ whenever he replayed the moment Vers called him her friend.

It seemed unbelievable to him that the stardust that made him and Vers had travelled all this way, through all this time, to let them walk through the streets of Hala side by side, their shoulders brushing. Yon-Rogg used to think the death of a star was a tragedy, albeit a fascinating one. But maybe the star that had created him and Vers did not really die; maybe it lived and breathed again in the warmth that filled his chest every time Vers looked his way.

But he did not know how long this lie could continue. But it would not be forever.

And the star burning inside of him would die once again.

“Hey,” Vers nudged him, “We’re at my building.”

And indeed, there was Vers’ building, one of the old barracks that had been brought out by the government for politicians and higher-up military personnel. It was a grand building, with the familiar hammer-like shape of other barracks. However, it was the hexagon plates of gold-steel that decorated it that made it worth noting; they reflected the sunset and made the building appear to glow white-gold in the evening while everything else around faded slightly in the growing darkness.

“Ah,” he said, stopping. They had gotten there sooner than he had expected. “I hadn’t realised.”

“Yeah, you were thinking pretty hard there,” Vers laughed. “Anything of interest?”

“Just thinking about the stars,” he admitted. “I think we should go do a Starforce training exercise again soon.”

“Sounds fun. I’m game.”

He huffed in amusement. “Not for a while, Vers.”

“Spoilsport.”

“See you tomorrow, Vers.”

“Bright and early, Commander.”

He turned to walk away, but Vers moved quickly to catch his hand in hers. Something hot seemed to flood his face and chest, and his stomach seemed to quiver and bubble. He briefly wondered if he had caught the virus after all.

“Thank you, Yon-Rogg. Really,” Vers said, squeezing his hand gently before letting go. She turned and went through her building door, shooting him one last smile before the door slid back closed.

 _... Oh_ , Yon-Rogg thought as he stared at the closed door and then at his hand in a daze. _Oh no._

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
